


Dirty Mind

by Gothic_Lolita



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Blow Jobs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pole Dancing, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Submissive Clark Kent, Top Bruce Wayne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-29 23:22:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14483466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothic_Lolita/pseuds/Gothic_Lolita
Summary: Clark is just a stripper trying to make enough money to get by. He isn't ready for the unstoppable force that is his new client.





	Dirty Mind

**Author's Note:**

> *pokes head into DC fandom* Heyyy, how we doing? Missed yalls, been busy. Marvel took over my life, man. It fucking took over my life. But with fucking Infinity War, I can't even handle thinking about my faves without crying so I decided to turn back to my real OTP!  
> I really do miss writing for Superbat, I just don't get enough ideas for them. This was originally a Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes fic that I rewrote about a half a page in just because I really need a fucking break from Marvel, man. I need a break.  
> So here's some unapologetic, Stripperverse Superbat smut!  
> Also, I highly suggest listening to the song, Dirty Mind by Boy Epic while reading this, it completes the effect.

Clark hummed to himself as he slid up and down the pole. People were clapping and whistling at him, throwing bills onto the stage. It was a packed house, which meant more tips for Clark, thank god. He had rent to pay. And if paying that rent meant he had to dirty dance on stage in skimpy jean shorts while being watched by pervs, so be it. Clark had given up his pride -and his dreams- a while ago. At least he was a damned good stripper. Farm muscles paid off.

Clark finished his routine and gave the crowd a dazzling smile, picking up the cash on the stage. He barely got off the stage before Luthor intercepted him.

“You’ve got a private show, Kent.” Luthor’s arms were folded. “Room five. He didn’t specify a time limit, but he did pay damned well. So if he gets a bit handsy…” Luthor shrugged and gave Clark a toothy grin with an overly friendly pat on the back. “I’m sure you aren’t too shy.”

“Of course.” Clark forced a smile, biting back his disgust. It was a rule that no touching was allowed, but Luthor was a fan of waving that rule if it meant enough money going into his pocket. Money that Clark never fucking saw, but he wasn’t about to risk what little money he did make here by mouthing off.

Clark swung his hips as he walked to room five, just because he knew Luthor was looking and enjoyed a show as much as his customers. And Clark preferred to keep the people who gave him money happy. Life was just easier that way.

The buyer was already in the room, waiting when Clark came in with a glass of champagne in his hand. His suit looked more expensive than Clark’s entire wardrobe. Hell, his suit jacket alone was probably worth more than Clark’s entire apartment. That sort of excessive wealth always peeved Clark. Injustices of the world, he supposed, but he deserved to have someone to point his brittle rage at. Though it was hard to direct rage toward someone so damned handsome.

Clark didn’t usually pay mind to his buyer’s looks. It didn’t matter if they were America’s Next Top Model, or missing half their face, as long as they paid. And the people who had to pay for a show usually weren’t too graced in the physical parts of their genes. But this guy… lord, he could’ve brought anyone, guy or girl, straight or gay, to their knees with a single smile.

He was older than Clark, hell, easily ten years older, with his salt and pepper hair being a testament to it. But it only seemed to add to his look. Instead of looking sleazy, he looked suave, powerful. His features were chiselled, blue eyes absolutely stunning. 

Clark might’ve stared just a bit too long.

Grabbing his iPod, Clark put it on shuffle, too disoriented to think about picking a song or playlist. He’d just dance to whatever came on.

_ I know what you like _

_ Get the champagne _

The song was slow, sexy. It wasn’t a fast beat that Clark could get lost in, instead of a slower one he had to work to follow. He showed off just a bit, showing just how agile his big body could really be.

_ Hands on your thighs _

_ Wanna get your body high _

_ Get low _

_ Or no _

The first brush of the man’s hand was right down Clark’s spine, so feather-light he wasn’t even sure if he’d really felt it. When he glanced at the man, he hadn’t moved and held a face of calm indifference. Clark swallowed, twirling around the pole again, leg in the air.

_ I know you wanna fight _

_ Set a new pace _

Clark tried to ignore the eyes on him. He was used to dancing in front of others, and it’d stopped getting to him after the first month or so, even the ones Luthor let touch him. But this man… god, he was different. His eyes seemed to have already undressed Clark, both in clothing and in mentality. He wasn’t a predator waiting to strike, he was an alpha who already had his prize.

_ Wanna do you right _

_ Keep your back to the sky _

_ Go slow _

_ Or no _

Clark was positive he felt the second touch, this time trailing up his left thigh, stopping at the shorts. He didn’t bother looking, he knew the man wouldn’t have moved, but still, he’d touched Clark. And god, it was electric.

_ Yes or Yes? _

_ Do you want it in? _

_ You wanna be stressed, I’d rather have sex _

Without even thinking about it, Clark put more effort into his dance, letting his eyes slip shut. He couldn’t look at the man, not without getting even harder than he already was. It was unprofessional to have a boner when giving a show, but also just downright embarrassing. He ignored his own body, tried to ignore the body on the couch. Tried, anyway.

_ You and I and my dirty mind _

_ We can stay high or no? _

Clark was almost upset when the man hadn’t touched him again yet. He tried to push away the intrusive thoughts in his own head demanding to know what he’d done wrong.

_ Yes or Yes? _

_ Do you want it in? _

_ You wanna be stressed, I’d rather have sex _

The next touch brushed across Clark’s face, his fucking face. No one touched his face. Not that it was off limits, just that it wasn’t ever something buyers were interested in. Anything above Clark’s shoulders wasn’t worth the attention for them. This man… god, he was doing everything wrong about this.

_ You and I could die a thousand times _

_ We can stay high or no? _

Or maybe, maybe he was doing everything right, a voice in Clark’s head told him when calloused fingers pressed down just a bit harder than before against his stomach. The touch was gone just as soon as the other’s had been, but it had been firmer, making it that much more enthralling. Clark wasn’t even ashamed to be fully hard anymore. He didn’t see how he couldn’t have been, in that situation.

_ Let me change your mind _

_ Give you new fame _

Clark gasped when a hand wrapped around his hip, an immovable force. He froze, eyes flicking open. The man was standing now, champagne still in hand, right in front of Clark. Clark could barely breathe. 

_ Make you feel shy _

_ Keep it fifty all night _

_ Let go _

_ Or no _

The man took another step forward, and Clark was sure his heart stopped. The music was white noise buzzing in his ears. All he could focus on was the steady breaths of the man in front of him, now close enough to feel on Clark’s cheek.

_ We can let it ride _

_ Play a new game _

He brought his mouth up, right against Clark’s ear, so his lips brushed against the skin when he spoke. “Do you always enjoy your job this much?” The man asked, voice as smooth as caramel. Clark wasn’t sure what he meant until a finger brushed against his crotch.

_ Heavy overtime _

_ We can do it for life _

_ Go pro _

_ Or no _

“No,” Clark whispered. It was hard to think, hard to do anything other than just feel the other man’s presence in front of him. Smell his expensive cologne, feel the brush of his skin, hear the music of his voice.

_ Yes or Yes? _

_ Do you want it in? _

“Hm,” The man let out the noise as if he were actually surprised. “And then why on earth would you be now?” He asked as if he didn’t know the fucking answer. 

_ You wanna be stressed, I’d rather have sex _

_ You and I and my dirty mind _

“I…” Clark tried to form a sentence. “I don’t know.” It was all he could get out, all his tongue could manage. Maybe he really didn’t know. It was hard to explain the presence that was the man in front of him, and even harder to explain the effect it was having on Clark.

_ We can stay high or no? _

_ Yes or Yes? _

_ Do you want it in? _

The man chuckled. “You don’t? Poor sweetheart.” The pet name sent shivers down Clark’s spine. “I think you do. I think you do, and you’re just embarrassed to tell me.” His hand slid up Clark’s chest, sprawled out across  _ his sternum. _

_ You wanna be stressed, I’d rather have sex _

_ You and I could die a thousand times _

_ We can stay high or no? _

Clark didn’t have an answer to that. The man was right, of course, he was right. They both knew that. But Clark… Clark didn’t seem to know how to manage a simple nod. His body was strung high with need, a desperation he didn’t know he could feel so intensely.

_ We can Stay high for life, or tell me to go _

_ No No _

The man laughed again, sliding his to Clark’s shoulder. Clark wasn’t even aware he was being pushed down until he found himself on his knees. He stared up at the man, blinking. It took him a moment to realize, he was level with the man’s crotch. Oh. He was level with the man’s crotch.

_ Do you want it or no? _

_ We can Stay high for life, or tell me to go, no _

_ No No _

“Open.” The man tapped Clark’s jaw. Clark didn’t give blowjobs. He drew the line at the occasional handjob, only to keep Luthor happy. But he had limits, and they were limits he hadn’t crossed. Until now, at least, when his jaw fell open without so much as a thought. The man smiled down at him, pulling out his cock.

_ Do you want me or no? _

_ No No No _

Clark didn’t fight, didn’t even so much as flinch when the man slipped his cockhead between Clark’s lips. If anything, Clark might’ve moaned, high in his throat. He probably did, judging from the smirk on the man’s face. He tilted his chin up, giving better access to whatever it was the man wanted to do.

_ Yes or Yes? _

_ Do you want it in? _

The man didn’t fuck Clark’s mouth, didn’t even let Clark suck him off, both of which left Clark more disappointed than he should’ve been. Instead, the man only jerked off, keeping the very tip inside of Clark’s mouth as he did so. He let out the quietest grunt, before Clark’s mouth was filled with a thick, bitter taste. 

_ Yes or Yes? _

_ Do you want it in? _

“Swallow.” The man ordered, voice just a bit hoarse. Clark whined, swallowing down his reward, sucking at the cockhead for what little bit of cum still clung to it. The man grunted but didn’t push him off, and Clark enjoyed what little cock he was given. He didn’t know why or how, but what he wanted, more than anything, was to be able to properly suck off the man. Give him a proper blowjob, show him that Clark could do more than just dance. More than anything, he just wanted to please this man,

_ We can stay high or no? _

_ Yes or Yes? _

“I like you,” The man said as if it were a sudden discovery. He tucked his dick away, much to Clark’s dismay. “I wasn’t sure it was going to be a good idea to go to Luthor, but… I’m pleasantly surprised.” He reached into his pocket and grabbed Clark’s hand, forcing something into it. Clark opened his mouth to protest, but the man held up a finger. “I already paid Luthor. The money is all yours, sweetheart. And the phone…” He gave Clark a slow, wicked smile. “The phone is so I can keep in touch with you, sweetheart.”

_ We can stay high or no? _

_ Yes or Yes? _

“I’ll be in touch.” The man tossed back the last of his champagne, then simply walked out. Leaving Clark on his knees, hard and without a taste of come in his mouth. Clark wasn’t sure what to think. His mind was still swimming, heart pounding. But he did know one thing. He really, really wanted the man to call him.

 

_ You and I could die a thousand times _

_ Or we can stay high or no? _

**Author's Note:**

> So I watched Justice League, and man as much as I had a list worth of problems with it, holy SHIT the Superbat undertones. and I thought the first Avengers was heavy with Stony. The line "I don't... not... like you" just killed me, man, it fucking killed me. Superbat shippers, yalls don't even have to try. Your golden ship is so much better than the problematic chaos that is Stony. Rock on, babes.


End file.
